Eternal Winter

Epilogue: Warm Feelings

I first remember the cold.

The cold as it is now, biting at my nose, clinging to my eyelashes, and stiffening my fingers as they clung tightly to the wooden handle of the axe. Even with the warmth I generated from splitting block after block, the lancing pain of the cold in my lungs was a sure sign I should retreat soon. A glance up at the sky, clear but for a lazy, white cloud or two, showed the, still, blindingly, bright sun had already dropped below the forest tops—I would most assuredly need to retreat soon, else the temperature drops further on me.

Gathering up the freshly chopped wood in bundles, I placed the excess in their pile just outside the door and carried the rest inside the cabin, where only a dwindling fire greeted me. My boots shucked off, I set my work down beside the fireplace and began to refuel the flames. It blazed quickly and eagerly, crackling happily with its new meal. I sighed, contented as the warmth thawed out the stiffness in my fingers and hands.

Finally, off went the cloak and away went the tools as I settled myself into the small kitchen, pungent with drying roots and herbs as they hung from above. I quickly fell into the rest of my work, the remainder of my own set routine—maintain the fires to keep the rooms warm, ready food and drink for dinner and tomorrow, and clean that which was dirty and dusty. The day was for Olym, the evening was for the cabin.

For this was the cold I remembered first, not the thawing cold of a broken winter 6 months ago.

There was still light—the days were longer in summer, even as far north as Olym—as I settled into a seat and opened a book, dinner since finished and dishes cleaned. In the quiet, the slow page turns were my only notion of time passing. If this had been all, I figured I would have lost the sense of time the rest of the kingdom lived by.

If only that were the case—

A rapid knock came at the door shortly followed by a meow. I sighed and clapped the book shut before I took to my feet, heading for the door. It had not opened more than a few inches when a cat bolted inside, immediately shaking the snow from her coat. Thea took no care as she hopped into the seat I had just vacated, taking up the entire cushion. Opening the door fully revealed who I already knew stood there and I stepped to the side, giving space to Elda to enter. She trotted past me without pause and began to shed her own outdoor gear.

"No—" I cleared my throat. "No letter today?" I asked briskly, tamping down the shameful disappointment that bubbled within my chest.

Remember, you left him. Again. He need not even write to you. I swallowed the hard lump that stuck in my throat and forced myself to breathe, to feel the magic saturating Olym. To remind myself—even without my brother...I had still needed to go. To return.

Return to my once-home and lay Teacher to rest properly, only to find it had already been done. To find the cabin not barren nor alone. Not with Elda settled within to care for it. As she did now, setting out the things she had brought back from the markets of Bonté.

With the firelight flickering across her face, she gave me a thin stare from beneath the silvery wisps of her hair. "Surely, that is not how you greet someone you have not seen for over a week, lass," she echoed my brisk tone in her own.

I caught at my other arm and broke my gaze first. "No," I admitted, feeling more warmth in my cheeks. "You are correct—I apologize." I let out a quick breath and turned back to her. "How was your journey, and the markets?"

She regarded me for another moment and then she let out a hard bark of a laugh. "In moments like this, I can almost see you as your namesake." Although she spoke in a light tone, there was a softened edge to it, and her eyes were downcast and shadowed. "Either way, I did pick up something you may find of interest. You can come in now, lad!"